A Final Year, A First Kiss
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Five times Draco isn't sure what's happening between himself and Harry. And the first time he realizes. 5 plus 1. Drarry, Oneshot.


**I've recently become completely obsessed with Drarry, as obvious by my other oneshots, so here's another one! This sort of takes place in the canon, but like the epilogue didn't happen, and some other events have been tweaked as well. Not by too much, though...**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.**

1.

Coming back to Hogwarts for the eighth year really hadn't been something that Draco Malfoy had thought was in the cards. Both of his parents were in Azkaban, his father for an indefinite amount of time and his mother for a bit less although still undecided, and up until a week before the school year was meant to start, Draco was planning on wallowing in his own misery in a holiday house of the Malfoy's in Greece. He hadn't been back to Malfoy Manor since everything had gone down with Voldemort, even when he had to come back to his parents trial, he stayed with Blaise Zabini, rather than staying back at the manor that had been Voldemort's base of operations for so long.

It had been an owl from Harry Potter that had actually brought him back, although he wasn't going to admit that— _ever_.

Pansy Parkinson, Blaise and Theodore Nott had been trying to convince him to come back, telling him that they were all going back, they were all there to hex anyone who dares to raise their wand against him, but Draco had stubbornly refused.

When the owl had dropped off the tightly wrapped parchment, Draco had been completely confused. He had barely heard from anyone other than Pansy, Blaise and Theo and to get an owl from _Potter_ was completely unexpected.

 _Draco,_

 _Pansy tells me that you plan on not coming back._

 _Please reconsider._

 _Harry._

The first thing—well, it was more the _second_ thing—that had caught Draco off guard was the fact that Potter had called him _Draco_ , not Malfoy. Although, it wasn't as though he had ever sent him a letter before, so it could have just been that Potter felt odd addressing it to _Malfoy_ , but it still...Still made Draco feel a bit strange inside. The other thing was the fact that apparently _Pansy_ and Potter had been talking, which was weird.

What was even stranger was the fact that he was actually suddenly second guessing his decision not to go back.

Things were going to be different.

His parents had been Death Eaters. They had been at Voldemorts side when Harry's body had been carried out of the woods by Rubeus Hagrid and presented to the school. He carried the Dark Mark. He had _taken their side in the schools court yard_ —in front of everyone.

But...It wasn't as though he was planning on doing anything else with his time.

And...Hogwarts was home, more than Malfoy Manor had been in a long time.

So six days later, Malfoy's house elf, Flint, was having his bags packed and they were apparating to Kings Cross Station. At first, the business of parents saying goodbye to their children and the previous years students greeting the friends that they hadn't seen since the end of the school year was enough to draw all attention away from Draco. But then, after a few more minutes passed, the whole station seemed to be aware of Draco's presence.

It wasn't as though the whole place fell quiet, because that would be completely unrealistic, but the loud hum that usually filled the place seemed as though it dropped a few decibels. Draco chewed down on his lower lip, his chin still jutted forward arrogantly, trying not to show how their stares affected him.

"Draco," came a familiar voice, although _saying_ an unfamiliar word. His name. Again, but this time verbally. Draco turned around to see Potter standing there with a small but sincere smile. "I'm glad you came back."

2.

Draco was actually pretty sure that Quidditch was the thing that he missed the most.

He had been a part of the team since their second year, and it wasn't like the team had told him he couldn't be the seeker—he was pretty sure they were too scared of him—but Draco wasn't going to be somewhere that he wasn't wanted. Or, at least, to a certain degree, because a lot of people clearly didn't want him to be at Hogwarts, but he still had a few solid friends who were always around. But Quidditch was with a team, and they were meant to work together, it wasn't _like_ school when he was just there to learn to better himself—it was a team sport where they were meant to be a unit.

If the rest of the team didn't trust or like him, then it wasn't as though they were going to work, and it wasn't going to be something they were good at.

So when the Quidditch try outs came up, Draco didn't go.

And it sucked.

It really sucked going to games and watching the new seeker, who really wasn't all that good, and didn't stand a chance when it came to Potter when he knew that he would be better. But that was the way it was, so he tried not to pout too much over it, even though he still went to every game and watched them with hawke-like eyes, and he ignored Pansy when she said that he was only going to watch Potter.

They were a couple months into the school year and Draco was coming out of the library. He had been in there since he had finished dinner and it was almost dark outside, the sun low in the sky. Potter came up to him, determined and face set, and Draco couldn't help but steel himself for some sort of accusation, because he really couldn't think of any other reason that Potter would be coming up to him.

Sure, things were a lot more... _Cordial_ than they had been, but they weren't _friendly_.

Or, he didn't think they were.

Potter sometimes smiled at him, though.

And when they were in Defense of the Dark Arts, Potter had helped him out.

So Draco returned the favour by correcting a few of his measurements in Potions class.

But that was it.

Other than sometimes waving in the hallway, awkwardly.

That was _it_.

"I've got this," Potter announced, holding up a golden snitch between them. Draco blinked in confusion and Potter's mouth twisted upwards in a small smirk—one that Draco weirdly wanted to kiss off his face. "You want to go?"

"Flying?" Draco asked, trying to understand what was happening.

"Yes. Seeker against seeker," there was a competitive edge to Potter's voice that Draco could already feel that edge rising. Potter had always known how to get under his skin, and he knew what to say to get Draco in that head space.

"I'm not a seeker anymore," Draco retorted and Potter shrugged a shoulder, and there was still that _stupid smirk on his face_.

"Semantics," he returned and Draco gritted his teeth together. Potter arched an eyebrow.

"So? You coming?" He asked and Draco was never one to back down from a competition, so he stalked after a grinning Potter.

It was the best night he had in a long time.

3.

Through the week, things at Hogwarts were well organised. Breakfast was early, then there were classes until lunch, and then there was lunch, and then there were more classes, and then there was time to study and maybe have some free time for an hour or so before it was dinner, and then after dinner there was more studying but mainly people just went back to their houses and hung out with the students there.

The weekends, though, were a little disorganized. The younger students would get all excited about visiting Hogsmead because it was still a novelty to them, so they would get up just as early as they did through the week. The older students mainly slept in though, either deciding to head into Hogsmead later on in the day, or choosing to hang out at the school all day.

Draco sometimes went into Hogsmead, but nowadays, more often than not he stayed around the castle. He got enough dirty looks at Hogwarts alone, he didn't need to deal with the dirty looks from Hogsmead as well. Pansy had a date with some girl from Ravenclaw, so she was gone, and Blaise notoriously slept in until the early hours of the afternoon, so this particular Saturday morning, Draco was down in the Great Hall by himself. There were only a couple of other Slytherins sitting at the long table for their house, and there was a Hufflepuff girl there as well, since the normal seating allocations went out the window most weekends when the place wasn't crowded.

No one sat beside Draco.

He was down the end by himself, and he tried to act as though that was okay.

It was around ten o'clock as Draco was cutting up the French toast in front of him and he heard a loud, obnoxious laugh come from the back of the halls, as the doors swung open. Draco glanced back to see Ron Weasley and Potter come through the doors. Hermione Granger wasn't with them, although that girl was usually in the library, so Draco wasn't particularly surprised that she wasn't there.

No—what he was surprised by was when Potter came over and sat next to him, flashing him a smile as he began helping himself to the food in the centre of the table. Weasley was also surprised, based on the fact that his eyebrows almost disappeared under his ginger fringe, but after twisting his mouth and flicking his eyes between the Slytherin table and the Gryffindor one, he took a seat next to Potter and shot Draco and tight, half smile.

Draco couldn't help but stare as Potter helped himself to a full plate and then dug in, as though the two of them sitting next to Draco at the Slytherin table was completely normal.

After a few minutes passed, he went back to eating, a strange warm feeling settling at the pit of his stomach.

4.

Draco was sitting in one of the tall, spiral towers, in the window sill, his legs hanging out, heels drumming against the wall. His hands were gripping the cobblestones of the window sill, and he kept tipping his head forward to look down at the school that was sprawling beneath him. It wasn't the safest place to be, even though there were lots of protection wards cast because of students doing exactly what he was doing now, but Draco liked it up here. It was quiet and hardly anyone came into this tower, or at least, not as high as he was.

"Draco?" Potter's voice was quiet behind him and Draco frowned as he turned around.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked, although his words weren't unkind or accusatory, like they once were. They were just curious.

"I, uh," Potter shrugged, his cheeks going a little red. "I saw you from the courtyard. I just...Wanted to make sure you were okay." Draco just blinked, not too sure how to respond to that. So he just shrugged and let his eyes slide away. Potter didn't push anymore, he just walked over slowly, and then propped himself up on the window sill next to Draco, with his legs hanging inwards, rather than outwards, like Draco's. Potter twisted himself around, so that he could look out over the school and the forest surrounding it, like Draco was, and they were quiet for a long time, watching the sun sink further into the hills in the distance.

"It's my mothers birthday today," Draco stated after a long silence. Potter didn't say anything and Draco didn't look at him, because he _knew_ that he would just be looking at him with sympathy on his face and he didn't want to see that. "I sent her an owl this morning...And some of her favourite caramels...But it's just not the same," he drifted off and he was horrified when he felt pressure behind his eyes. So he stopped talking all together and focused on taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

"I'm sorry," Potter murmured and Draco couldn't help but look over at him, and he was surprised to see that it _wasn't_ sympathy etched on his face.

Or it _was_ , but it was also understanding.

Of course.

"You don't have to say that," Draco muttered, because the look in Potter's deep green eyes as he stared at him made him just want to push the other boy away. "After...After everything, you don't have to say you're sorry. It's not like it's your fault."

"I know it's not my fault," Potter stated, and there wasn't any type of arrogance in his voice, but there wasn't any regret either. He was just...Stating a fact, gently. "But that doesn't mean I'm not sorry that you're sad, that you're in pain, that you're suffering." Draco swallowed hard and didn't say anything, because he didn't know what to say— _again_. But he met Potter's eyes and gave him a small nod, trying to convey his thanks, even though he had no idea why Potter had chosen to come and find him and try to make him feel better.

Potter reached out and covered his hand with his own.

Draco stiffened for a moment at the sudden heat, but then he lifted his thumb, curling it awkwardly, up and back, hooking it around one of Potter's fingers, securing his hand against his own.

5.

Christmas and New Years came and went, and Draco stayed at Hogwarts, which was odd. Harry was gone, he went to the Weasley's, and when he came back, he looked even prettier than when he had left. He brought Draco a trilogy of Muggle books about a magic ring and hobbits and elves and wizards. Draco got confused to begin with, because there was magic, but it wasn't _their_ magic.

He didn't admit to Harry that he finished the whole set within a couple of weeks, barely sleeping once he got into the plot.

Draco started going into Hogsmeade through the weekends, but it wasn't with Pansy and Blaise.

It was with Harry.

Sometimes Hermione and Ron came with them, sometimes Ginny and Cho also came. Sometimes it was just them.

Draco preferred when it was just them.

And he had admitted to himself that it was because he had a crush on Harry.

 _Harry_.

He wasn't sure when Potter had become _Harry_ , it was some time before Christmas, but it was after Thanksgiving.

Maybe when Harry brought food up to the Slytherin house when Draco didn't go down, because Thanksgiving when his parents weren't free—when his _mother_ wasn't free—didn't feel right. But sitting up in his room, with Harry, eating turkey and mash, it had felt right, and he had felt good.

Like he always did, when it was Harry.

Valentines Day passed, and Pansy had teased him about getting Harry some roses, but he hadn't, because Harry was his _friend_ and even though he wanted more, he didn't want to threaten what they finally _had_.

February ended and then it was the first of March, Weasley's birthday, and some of the boys in Gryffindor had managed to get some elf-wine and they snuck out of the dorms and up to one of the attics in the towers. Harry had told Draco when they left the dinner room, inviting him to go, and Draco had been confused, because he was going with his best friends, and Draco...Wasn't one of them.

And yet, Harry had waited for him while the others had run ahead, and he had ushered Draco ahead of him, his hand resting on Draco's back, and for the first time, Draco really wished that his robes weren't made of such expensive, thick material, so that he could feel the warmth of Harry's hand through them.

They all got pretty drunk, and loud, and Hermione kept trying to hush them, making sure there was a Silencing Spell cast around them, but Ron managed to talk her into loosening up, and Ginny was giggling and they were passing a bottle between them by the end of the night. The whole thing was so different from every other time Draco had gotten drunk.

With the Slytherins, things had usually gotten nasty, and there were fights and gossip and bets on who was going to pass out first and what they were going to do to them. But with this group...They were just having fun, and they were joking, and okay, it was a little boring, but Harry was sitting really close, and their fingers kept overlapping and sometimes their knees would knock together and Draco was trying not to drink too much, because he was trying to comit everything to memory. And Harry's friends were all talking to Draco as though he was a part of their group, as though he hadn't been a Death Eater this time last year.

Harry was pretty drunk by the end of the night, and then he was full on leaning against Draco, his head on his shoulder, and his breathing steady.

Hermione gave them a knowing smile that Draco couldn't decipher.

Harry fell asleep.

Draco tried to ignore the fact his whole body felt as though it was on fire.

+1.

It was a few weeks after Weasley's birthday and Harry and Draco were in the library. The place was buzzing with energy, Madam Pince looked as though she was on the verge of having a heart attack with how many times she had shushed people, her face going red with frustration. The reason that the whole place was filled with whispers and giggles was because Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had announced that there was going to be a ball, to take place in a few weeks time, near the end of May.

It wasn't like the Yule ball, that happened with the Triwizard Tournament was taking place. This was a ball just for the students of Hogwarts, and Headmistress McGonagall said that that it was for the students to celebrate the school year.

Most of the students, especially the ones in the later years, knew that it was to celebrate _making it through_ the school year. To celebrate that they had made it to the point that they were at now. It wasn't as though she was trying to hide the fact that this ball was going to happen in _May_ , just a few weeks after the first anniversary of The Battle of Hogwarts, but they were all choosing to focus on the fun, rather than the bad memories.

Just like they had been doing to get through the year.

That was the whole point, Draco guessed.

But even though everyone seemed to be hyped up to eleven, Draco couldn't get rid of the knot in his stomach. He had heard whispers for the past three days, ever since the announcement in assembly, of people in the school who wanted to ask 'The _Savior_ ' to the ball. So far, he had actually witnessed two propositions, both of which Harry had turned down while blushing and trying to be overly kind.

Draco was dreading the right girl or guy coming up to Harry and actually getting a positive answer.

Blaise had told him he would feel better if he just asked him to the ball himself.

Pansy said that the two of them had practically been dating for months, they should skip the ball and just go straight to an after party back in Draco's room.

Draco had ignored Blaise and pulled the fingers at Pansy.

She had this weird notion that Harry Potter actually _liked him back_.

So they were in the library, and it was a Friday night, and the only reason that they were studying on a _Friday night_ was because the N.E.W.T's and the O.W.L's were less than a month than starting, so people were actually taking studying seriously. Rumor had it that Granger only left the library to go to class and to sleep, she had taken to sneaking food into the library, somehow managing to get it past Madam Pince.

Harry bumped his knee against Draco and Draco glanced up from his book before looking back down. All of the big tables were taken and overflowing, so they had found one of the alcoves near the back of the library, close to the Restricted Section, that was really only big enough for one person, but Harry had pulled a chair over and they had huddled around the desk. Harry bumped his knee again and Draco raised his eyebrows as he looked up.

"What's going on, Harry?" Draco asked, and he didn't miss the way Harry's smile widened, just like it always did when Draco used his actual name. He tried to pretend as though it didn't affect him, but...

It did.

"I was wondering..." Harry drifted off and the colour in his cheeks pinked even further. "I was wondering if, maybe..." he trailed off again and Draco's eyebrows pulled together.

"Are you okay?" He asked, actual concern in his voice. Because that's what he felt when he was with Harry—not Potter, _Harry_ —was around. Concern and warmth and affection and worry and compassion and love and—

"Iwantedtoknowifyouwantedtogototheballwithme?!" Harry blurted out and Draco's head jerked, his eyes wide.

" _What_?" Draco gasped and, if possible, Harry's cheeks got even redder, the colour spreading down his neck and underneath the collar of his shirt. He looked down at the parchment he had been scribbling on, clenching his fingers so tightly around his quill that his knuckles were white, but then he took in a deep breath and looked back up.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go the ball with me?" Harry asked, gritting his teeth together after he managed to force the words out. Draco just stared at him, and it was very obvious that Harry was embarrassed and nervous, but he was also brave, and he met Draco's eyes determinedly.

"Yes," Draco found himself saying before even realizing that he had. Harry blinked behind his spectacles, and then a smile spread out across his face.

"Yes?" He checked. Draco was quiet, taking in deep breaths, trying to assure himself that he wasn't dreaming.

"Yes," he breathed out again and Harry's cheeks looked as though they were going to break with how big his grin was. Draco didn't smile very often, but he couldn't help but return Harry's. They stared at each other goofily for a moment before Harry's grin dissolved into a smaller smile and he sucked the corner of his lower lip into his mouth before leaning forward slowly. Draco stared at him, stunned _again_ , as he realized that Harry was moving in for a _kiss_.

Draco swallowed hard before dipping his head forward just slightly, and Harry closed the gap between them, their mouths coming together gently. It was chaste and over far too quickly, but it held a promise of a lot more.

They went back to studying, except Harry's hand was on Draco's knee, and both of them were smiling down at their books.

 **Let me know what you think x**


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